Hiraeth
by TheKid'sKid
Summary: The moon couldn't speak. Howard knew this. But just in case, he liked to talk to it sometimes, in the hopes that it might relay a message. (Sequel to 'Damon and Pythias'.)
1. Chapter 1

I LIVE: Hello all, and welcome to the first chapter of Hiraeth, the sequel to Damon and Pythias. I was planning on holding off on releasing this until much later, but I just felt bad for doing so. Please, please do not expect chapters every week like last time. I hate saying that, but between family issues, college courses and other such things, I just literally have no time to write this as much as I want to. Also I'm working on some other fics that I've had on hold for years. Just know that my promise still stands; I shall never, ever drop this fic. Even in months go by with no new chapter, know that I am writing and thinking of you all!

Chapter 1

Howard stepped quietly through the apartment door, careful not to bang the suitcases he carried into any walls. Tristan followed behind, arms full of bags and trinkets, namely a gigantic stuffed dolphin that Howard had won her.

It was late into the night and the pair had just arrived back from a weekend spent at Euro Disney. It had been Tristan's gift to Howard for their two year anniversary. Howard couldn't believe it'd already been two years since they began dating. He'd gotten her a quite expensive jeweled necklace, which they'd ended up searching for frantically after it flew off her on a particularly rough ride.

Tristan now placed it carefully into her jewelry box after setting their luggage on the floor to be unpacked the next day. They were both exhausted, and immediately crawled into bed, kicking shoes and trousers off. The air in the flat was chilly, and the two huddled up together before passing out. Winter seemed to be coming early this year.

* * *

Howard found himself once again unable to sleep. He had long since become accustomed to only a few hours of sleep each night, and the shadows under his eyes were now a familiar feature. He sighed as he combed his fingers through his hair, noting idly that it needed to be trimmed soon. Funny, it seemed to grow out much quicker than it used to.

Howard rose slowly from his bed, careful not to disturb Tristan, who slumbered on. He moved quietly through the dark room, making his way to the balcony. Opening the sliding door, Howard breathed in the crisp autumn air, closing his eyes and standing for a moment in the stillness before closing the door behind him. The balcony was small, with only enough room to comfortably fit a chair, and Howard was quickly leaving permanent indents in the cushions from his many nights spent curled up on it, looking out over the neighborhood. His gaze eventually drifted, as it always did despite his efforts, to the moon. It hung high above, in the pitch black sky, its shine unimpeded by the glaring lights below.

Once his gaze was captured, Howard relaxed with a sigh of resignation, and stared upon the half-moon as it made its slow trek across the sky. It always reminded the tired man of nights long ago; of absurd comments, glares, pulled faces and laughter. Demands to close the curtains awaking him in the night, incessant whinging until he grudgingly rose and closed every curtain in the Lodge. These were all memories Howard refused to pore over in the daylight, but the moon somehow always forced them out, on nights like this, when Howard's mind refused him rest.

"Um...hi again, it's me. Just...just wondering how you were doing..."

The moon couldn't speak. Howard knew this. But just in case, he liked to talk to it sometimes, in the hopes that it might relay a message. The man's voice rose in the silence, awkward, and Howard was thankful no one else was around to hear him.

"I, uh, I'm...I'm sorry...again...I know that I keep saying I'll see you, but..."

Howard allowed himself to trail off into silence, and settled back in the chair as he listened to the sound of traffic below.

* * *

"_All the things I'll never see, all the things I'll never be_..."

Howard tuned his guitar strings, fingers playing over them idly as he sang in a low tone. The nights he spent staring at the moon always left him feeling a bit strange and emotional, and so he tended to spend the early morning hours strumming away on his acoustic, as he had once done as a scraggly teenager.

"_All there is that's left for me is here in this eternity of isolation, isolation_..."

"Well that's dreary as shit."

For about half a second Howard could've sworn it was the kid speaking. But as his eyes moved across the room, he beheld Tristan leaning against the wall with a sleepy smile on her face. She gave a quiet laugh at the man and went into the kitchen to begin her day with a mug of coffee. And such went their morning routines. Tristan prepared for her long day of dealing with the idiots at Sugar Ape magazine, which payed well but not well _enough _some days, in Tristan's opinion. And Howard dressed warmly for his morning of heaving bin bags with his friend Horus.

* * *

Howard rubbed at his eyes as he lay on his back, listening to the sound of Tristan breathing beside him. Two nights in a row he'd be without sleep, it seemed. Ah dammit. He really didn't want to go out onto the balcony tonight; it was fucking freezing out. Snow would definitely be falling early this year. Howard recalled a winter Sunday two years ago, when the zoo was closed and all the other keepers left quickly after finishing their rounds, and it had been just him and Vince. The boy had dragged him outside the Lodge and proceeded to smack him clear in the face with a snowball, not once, but twice! Well, needless to say, it had been war. Howard almost smiled up at the dark ceiling as he replayed his victory against the Mighty Eskimo Noir that afternoon, howling up into the sky like a child as Vince lay laughing in the snow.

Howard rose from the bed, moving almost without realising it to the bedroom doorway. From there he crept in blackness down the hall, opening the next door after his. He was careful of the low creek it omitted if he opened it too quickly. Had skillfully mastered this journey in the night without waking Tristan. Howard slid silently into Vince's bedroom, closing the door and moving to the bed, where he sat down on the neatly arranged duvet, unused for so long. Everything in the room had gathered a fine layer of dust, but Howard could never bring himself to clean it, or allow Tristan to, as she often tried. She couldn't stand the sight of all this dust just gathering. Howard had at least agreed to gather all the boy's belongings into boxes and put them away in the closet for safe-keeping. One such box was small and contained many of Vince's drawings and writings, and Howard kept it underneath the bed for nights like this.

Reaching down, Howard pulled the box up and beside him, opening it as he turned on the small lamp beside Vince's bed. It offered enough light in the darkness for Howard to gaze over the contents of the box. It was almost a ritual, the way Howard picked up sheet after sheet, gazing upon the pictures or words scrawled across each surface, every now and again encountering a paper plate. The pile in the box dwindled as the one beside it on the bed grew, and time passed quietly for Howard as he lost himself in his memories. Finally he came to the bottom of the box, and Howard took a minute to stare down at the small, tattered black notebook that gazed stoically back up at him. It was Vince's, of course, the one he'd scribbled in before Howard had gotten him the pink book, which unfortunately had been lost long ago to a little thing called an 'Howard got pissed and chucked it out the car window'.

Eventually Howard moved once more, reaching down to pick up the notebook and open it to the first page, filled with messy school notes on math. The boy hadn't been very good with division or percentages. And then came the first of the little drawings, crammed into corners against the schoolwork, and eventually just becoming pages filled with animals and humans and creatures somewhere in between. There was one particular drawing that always captured Howard's attention. A rather intricate pencil sketching of a man with a wolf's head, entirely in shadow aside from the eyes, which were blank white circles. Interrupting the menagerie of freakish images was an occasional short Charlie adventure, usually only taking up half a page, and littered with pencil and pink marker depictions of the weirdo. Howard had grown a distinct dislike of anything involving Charlie, and so never stopped to read the words on these pages, simply moving on with little more than a glance.

Howard could almost pinpoint the moment when Vince had come to live with Howard, because the pages now contained almost exclusively drawings of the zoo animals and fellow keepers. There were a few little Naboos and Bollos and even one of Cooper. Lemurs and ocelots dotted the pages, and in one corner sat the zoo's old lion, done up as Adam Ant. There were also drawings of Howard, pink balloon and all. Howard could never really figure that one out.

'_Why a pink balloon? I mean really, now. He draws everyone else with faces except me_.'

Howard mentally shook his head as he turned another page. He was always taken by surprise at the bright red as it struck out at him in the dim light. Even after all this time, Howard was still befuddled and a little scared of this particular piece of paper, on which was the rather crude drawing of a man. Or at least, it seemed to be a man. The lines were incredibly sketchy and muddled, like Vince's later drawings became. Howard remembered something Ms Rose had said a year ago when looking over the pink book. Something about the erratic lines of Vince's later drawings being a clue into the increasingly delusional way of his mind. Or something like that. Truth be told Howard had hardly been listening back then, too stressed and worried over the upcoming court date.

Howard breathed out a long breath as he scanned the drawing for the hundredth time, looking for any kind of clue as to who it might be, or even what Vince could be trying to portray. The warped man lay splayed out, long limbs almost making a star. His face held no features, but he had a short spikey mop of yellow crayon atop his head. The rest of the page was rather hard to make out as it was so marred with red marker. Red starting at the man's torso and flowing down over his legs and onto the rest of the page in chaotic blotches and scribbles. It was so thick it bled into the next several pages, which held little more than a few half-hearted doodles. Three pages later and things seemed to back to normal, with a large colored picture of a bloke in rags holding a guitar, the moon accompanying him on the top half of the page with the words 'filthy face' scrawled over it.

After this it became the usual weird animals and occasional people to finally nothing but blank sheets. Howard placed the book and the rest of the paper neatly back into the box, closing it and tucking it away back in the shadows under Vince's bed. Howard then got up, turning off the lamp, and made the return journey back to the soft breaths of Tristan and the black ceiling above him.


	2. Chapter 2

NOTESTHENOTES: Not entirely happy with this but ah well, I'll live with it. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2

Howard wandered up and down the shops in town, searching about for the perfect Christmas present for Tristan. He feared that he had set the bar a bit high with the anniversary gift, and just didn't have the money to top that. But Tristan seemed to understand, warning Howard off again and again from spending all his money on her. She had very pointedly stated that they _both_ needed to begin saving. And she was right; their jobs, while steady and decent, weren't as ideal as they had hoped to obtain.

Finally, after much pacing and muttering amongst himself, Howard decided on a stereotypical boyfriend gift: a stuffed animal; rather, a stuffed dog. At least they were her favorite animals... Later that night, as he and Tristan sipped at their drinks in the quiet, warm air of their favorite Cafe, Howard presented it to her with much fumbling and nervousness. He could help it! After all this time and all the shoddy presents he'd slung together for people, he just never got any better at it.

But the recipients always seemed pleased, which never failed to warm both the back of Howard's neck as well as his heart. His moving away present to Gideon had been received with much hugging and tears, and even Moose got a little choked up as the two friends parted ways. Tristan always loved every gift he bought her, even when he had been certain she'd hate them. And Vince had always-

Vince.

Howard's mind slowed for a second, before quickly kicking into overdrive, forcefully shoving any and all thought on the boy away, far down into the dark depths. Thoughts of the kid had been labeled 'forbidden' during the daytime. It had now been over a year since the boy'd been committed to the Wimbledon Mental Health Centre last September. He'd be turning nineteen in just a few weeks. And Howard knew this time would be just like last year.

On the day of Vince's eighteenth birthday, nearly three months after his commitment, Howard had called into work sick and spent the entire day in bed. It was the first real screaming fight he and Tristan had ever gotten in. She very nearly hit him when he refused her repeated demands that he go and visit the kid. Instead, the woman had declared him incompetent, and slammed the door on her way to spend the night at a friend's.

Howard really wasn't looking forward to this year, and could sense the mounting tension between himself and Tristan.

"Alright, well, I can't really give you your gift right now."

Howard's mind returned to the Cafe, looking across the table at Tristan, who had just spoken.

"Oh? Well that's alright; how come?"

"Weeell, because it's more like a little surprise trip. You'll see."

"A trip? This isn't another day at the aquarium, is it? I mean it's beautiful, but tickets have gotten expensive-"

"It might be. We're going there tomorrow."

* * *

As Howard caught sight of the sign in front of the building, he actually tried to open the passenger door. He wasn't sure if he'd really meant to jump from the moving car he was in, and would never find out, as he found the door safety-locked; he was going nowhere. So the man leaned back in his seat and leveled a hard stare over at Tristan as she calmly parked the car. In hindsight he really should've seen this coming.

"I'm not moving."

"Oh god, Howard you are being such a fucking child! We're going in there."

Tristan proceeded to unbuckle herself and get out of the car, walking brusquely around to Howard's door, opening it and crossing her arms down at him. He knew he was being petulant, but over time his fear of breaking down in front of the kid had morphed into simply a fear of seeing Vince at all. It was stupid and unclear and petrifying and Howard fought to come up with any excuse to just drive away now.

"But it's been over a year! Let's jus-"

"_Exactly_, it's been a damn year, Howard! Get your ass up now!"

Howard opened his mouth to retort, only to find himself being unbuckled and pulled painfully by his arm out of the car, landing on the concrete along with Tristan. The woman just heaved in a breath, standing up again and grabbing hold of Howard's arm, pulling him across the parking lot.

She wasn't covering much ground. Howard was quite heavy. The man felt as if his arms were being pulled off at the shoulder, and with a great cry he stumbled to his feet.

"Alright, alright! Jesus!"

"Alright then."

Tristan gave him a triumphant expression, before turning on her heel and marching toward the front doors. And a small part of Howard mourned the fact that she'd had the mind to bring the car keys with her.

Upon entering the building, Howard felt his stomach and other vital organs leave him at the door. He looked around himself in what must be a waiting room. Tristan was already approaching one of the desks, stating that they were there for the appointment with Vincent Noir. The woman behind the desk told them to take a seat and await a doctor to come and escort them.

Howard drummed his fingers and readjusted himself for several long minutes before a man appeared with a polite smile on his face.

"You're here to see Mr Noir?"

Tristan stood with a smile of her own, voice pleasant, though Howard heard the undertone directed at him, which said something along the lines of "If you make even one excuse to stay in the waiting room, you'll be sleeping outside for a month."

"Yes, we are."

"Right this way, then."

Howard rose and followed behind the two as they were led down three different hallways. Patients milled about in the halls and in rooms with the doors wide open; playing games, watching television, or just reading quietly. Howard relaxed a bit as his mental image of every horror film about asylums ebbed away. He didn't spot a single person in a strait jacket, nor heard any delirious screechings, or passed any padded cells.

And then he was tensing tenfold as the man knocked quietly on a numbered door, leaning in to call through it to its occupant.

"Mr Noir, you've got visitors. You two can just show yourselves right in. If you need anything, there is a guard at the end of every hall."

The doctor gestured toward the man that Howard hadn't noticed, standing nearby and observing the patients as they conversed. Now the horror films were coming back. Oh god. Howard stared down at the doorknob for a full minute after the doctor left them, and Tristan finally gave a sigh and opened the door herself.

Inside was a room much like all the others they had passed by. It had a closet, bathroom, sofas and a small table on which sat a lamp and some paper. The bed was in a corner, beside a window, which the room's occupant was currently gazing out of. He seemed paler than Howard remembered him, and his hair, devoid of all highlights, lay in dark blond tendrils. It had grown out over time, and was pulled back with a small white band, falling just past his shoulders.

Tristan moved forward into the middle of the room, nervousness of her own visibly creeping in. Howard knew she still slightly feared the kid. But if she was willing and able to do this, so could Howard. With a deep, held in breath, the man closed the door and stood by her side as she spoke in a soft tone.

"Hello, Vince. How are you?"

The boy turned his head slightly away from the window, now facing the far wall. But he still wasn't looking at them, and Tristan pressed on gently.

"We came to visit you today, Vince. Howard's here, as well. Why don't you say hi to him, Howard?"

This last sentence was said with pointed emphasis, and Tristan looked over at Howard, tilting her head sharply toward the boy. The man counted his vocal cords as one of the body parts awaiting him back at the entrance, and looked between Tristan and Vince mutely. The woman sent him various looks, gesturing at the kid and mouthing all manner of demands and curses at Howard.

Finally, Howard's voice seemed to have crawled back into him, and he was stuttering out quick words, voice far too raspy and low.

"Uh-er, hi, um...It's me, Howard...uh...Vince?"

The boy wasn't responding, and Howard became incredibly worried. Without thinking it through, the man was reaching out and laying his hand on the boy's shoulder. He immediately regretted it, not knowing how Vince would react to him after all this time. Howard supposed this was what it felt like to raise and then release a wild animal, only to spot it again out in the jungle. The animal either recognised its caretaker, or attacked.

But all the kid did was look up at him. Howard noticed that his eyes were slightly dilated and glassy, and he stared blearily up at the taller man. Howard could only gaze back, mouth parted though no more words could escape.

Vince's eyebrows suddenly drew together, as though he'd only just seen Howard for the first time.

"...Howard?"

His voice was unsteady and dream-like, and he had the appearance of one who was half-asleep. He reached a hand up toward the man's face, and Howard fought his reflex to pull back. The boy merely tapped a finger lightly on Howard's chin before drawing his hand away.

"Wha's with the soul patch?"

The boy's voice was still feathery and his eyes continued to be glassy, but those words were all Howard needed to know that Vince was in there. The Vince he knew was still in that head, and Howard smiled down at him, hand moving up from the boy's shoulder to lay gently at the base of his neck.

From here Howard wasn't sure what to say, and Tristan filled in for him, keeping her voice light as the boy turned to notice her as well.

"Um, why don't we go and sit on the sofa, Vince? You can tell us how you've been."

Both Howard and Tristan noticed with unease how the boy's expression changed as he took in the woman and her words. It was subtle, but he definitely seemed to regard Tristan much the same as he did back when he tried to dig a shovel blade into her. Howard thought that his girlfriend was incredibly brave, as she hardly reacted, moving steadily to sit down on one of the two small green couches on the other side of the room.

Howard dropped his hand and stepped back from the bed, conveying silently his agreement with Tristan's words, and finally the boy pushed back the duvet and began to stand. He was dressed in the same baggy uniform that every patient there donned. It seemed to swallow his form as he stepped slowly toward the sofas, swaying here and there.

'_They must have him on some powerful drugs_...'

Vince took a seat on the sofa opposite Tristan, and Howard spent a few seconds of panicked debating before sitting down with the boy. Vince looked dully between them, and Howard felt he had to speak up lest the boy catch on to how uncomfortable he felt. He didn't want the kid to translate it into meaning Howard didn't want to see him. He did! He just...didn't know what to say.

"So...uh, how _have _you been, Vince? You know...how are things...around the Centre?"

That sounded incredibly awkward in Howard's ears, and the boy's eyes moved up and down him before speaking again, voice a bit clearer than before.

"Borin' as shit. They hold these group s'ssions, y'know, where we all sit 'n a circle an' are s'pose to talk about our feelings. 'S pretty rubbish."

"I see...anything else?"

"Nope. Nothin' 'appens 'ere...what have you been up to?"

"Um, well, not much...mostly just work and then going home..."

"Oh? An' what d'you do? Find another zoo?"

"No, um, I'm working as a bin man. It's actually pretty-"

"_Bin man_?"

The boy broke off into low laughter, body shaking a bit with it, and Howard couldn't help the utter feeling of wrongness that had come over him throughout this entire conversation. It was wrong that Vince couldn't walk steadily; wrong that his eyes and face looked like he'd just got up from a coma. And it was wrong how he spoke as one asleep, or heavily pissed, slow and poorly enunciated. As his laughter ended the boy held his grin as he looked up at Howard. The man pushed all his negative thoughts aside and smiled assuredly down at the kid. Tristan spoke up once more, leaning forward in her seat.

"So, are you excited to be turning nineteen soon, Vince?"

The boy turned to look at her, seeming to notice her for the first time for the second time. His expression shifted into confusion, smile shrinking.

"Nineteen? 'M turnin' eighteen this year."

Now Howard was leaning forward, grasping the boy by his arm. He looked into the Vince's eyes, finding sincerity there in his claim. He then sat straight, trying to find the best way to construct the sentence he must say next.

"Um, Vince...you're going to be nineteen in two weeks, not eighteen. That was last year."

The boy looked between them, visibly processing this new information. Howard closed his eyes with a sigh.

"When...when you were taken here...remember? It was early November? You turned eighteen that January...and now it's another January. So..."

"I've been here two years?"

"No, not entirely. Just over a year. Um...what...what kind of medicine do they give you, Vince? Do you know?"

"Can't believe 's been tha' long...don't feel like it. Guess I sleep more 'n I thought. Um...don't know the names, but I take two pills in mornin's, and at lunch I take another. Used to take one at night...but tha' stopped after a while..."

Howard resolved to find Vince's primary doctor immediately, and rose from his seat. Vince's face flashed in alarm, and he clumsily grabbed onto Howard's shirt. Tristan moved ahead of him toward the door, allowing him a bit of space to give his goodbyes. Howard leaned down to eye-level with the kid, laying calming hands on his shoulders. The poor kid looked incredibly upset, and Howard wondered to himself how long it would take the staff to notice a missing patient.

"Vince, now I want you to listen carefully. We're going to go now. _But_! We'll be back for your birthday, alright? A- and I promise, I'll even bring you a gift! What do you want, name me _anything_, and it's yours."

Oh great, now he was promising the boy anything he wanted. He really needed to sew his mouth shut. He just didn't want the kid to be too distressed when he left. The thought of Vince sitting in this room, alone and distraught, made his throat burn. The boy smiled slightly up at him in response, and seemed to think it over.

"Could you get me a poncho?"

"A _poncho_?"

"Yeah, a blue one. Please?"

"You got it, Little Man."

Howard stood straight once more, hesitated, and then leant back in to place a kiss on top of the kid's head, quickly turning and walking from the room before the boy could react. He felt Tristan's smile digging into his back as they moved through the hallways and to the waiting room.

There Howard walked to another desk and asked if it was possible to see specific doctors. The man replied that it was only possible with an appointment.

"Well, could I schedule one to meet up with Vincent Noir's doctor, please?"

"Sure thing. Uhhh, that would be Dr Edmund. He's free for a ten o'clock this next Friday. How's that?"

"That sounds fine, thank you."

Howard then exited the building, not really sure if he felt lighter or heavier with his organs once again back inside him. They seemed to have been put in wrong. He felt odd as he sat in the passenger seat, Tristan starting the engine, aiming a smile his way.

"See? Now aren't you glad I dragged you here?"

Pride was a hard thing for Howard to swallow; but he decided, just once, to let it go.

"Yeah. Thanks, Tristan..."

(Reviews take only a few seconds and leave me feeling giddy and motivated!)


	3. Chapter 3

Note: Rushed through this so it's a little frazzled and there's probably spelling mistakes somewhere, so sorry in advance.

Chapter 3

That Friday afternoon had Howard fighting the urge to chew at his fingernails. He was currently fidgeting about in his seat in one of the Mental Health Centre's offices. He'd been led there by a smiling receptionist, told that the doctor he wished to see was with a client, but would return shortly. Howard spent the entire fifteen minutes wondering if it was Vince the doctor was with, and why he was taking so long in returning; perhaps something had gone wrong. Maybe something was wrong with Vince. At this very moment, somewhere in this hospital, was Vince being stubborn, refusing to take meds or something like that? Perhaps the doctor had been called out of his office specifically because Vince was acting out. That would be just like Vince. What if all the nurses and doctors in the building had to be called? It was awfully quiet outside the office walls. They all could be chasing the kid around the ward, having to hold him down and cart him back to his room, strap him to the bed; he'd be kicking and screaming the whole way-

Howard actually stood up from his seat, heart beating so harshly in his chest that it hurt.

'_Calm down! You're going to drive yourself into a panic, and next they'll be carting _you _away_!'

Howard sat down again with a long and steadying breath, letting it out slowly as he heard the door behind him click open. He kept his eyes closed as he listened to the quiet pad of shoes make their way around the desk in front of him.

"So, Mr Moon, what is it you wanted to discuss with me? My secretary told me you wanted to talk about one of my patients, Mr Noir. Are you a family member of his?"

Howard opened his eyes as he began answering the man before him. The doctor appeared a bit younger than him, clean-cut brown hair and dark eyes observing Howard with a professional gaze as Howard fought to control the barrage of questions and demands his mind threw at his teeth with full force.

"W-well, no, not really. Um, he's- uh, I looked after him for a number of years. But I'm not _legally_, you know, his parent or anything..."

"Well then, sir, I'm afraid there's not much I can tell you. _Legally_, only family members are permitted to know things concerning the patient."

Howard wanted to reach across the desk, grab the man by his clean blue collar, and tell him each and every reason he very well bloody _was_ family, but he merely cast about for something, anything that he might be able to find out.

"Um, well, is there anything you _can _tell me?" Howard heaved a heavy sigh, hand raking across his tired eyes. "Look, I just want to find out how he's been doing here, and what kind of medication you people have him on. I mean, when I saw him, he...he just didn't seem like _Vince_. He's shaky, and forgetful, like his mind's floating up above him on a cloud. And his speech, as well. He's so slurred now when he talks. Listen, I don't want to tell you how to do your job, but in _my_ opinion any pills that do that to a person just aren't worth-"

"Mr Moon? Mr Moon! I'm sorry to interrupt, but I just can't go explaining a patient's medical status to someone not related by blood or law-"

"Look-you..._Please_, just please, I'm not...I'm the only family he's got, alright? His guardians, they...they don't care, okay? Tell me this, have you _once _seen his guardians here? _Please_, I just want to know what's wrong with him."

The man seemed to be on the verge of dismissing Howard once more, but cut himself off and instead sat back in his chair, seeming to behold Howard in a different way than before. Finally he sat forward again, understanding coming into his voice as it lowered slightly.

"Hey, I get it, alright? I've got kids of my own...look, I could get into legal trouble over divulging information, but I'll tell you what I can."

Howard nodded eagerly, leaning forward as well, as though the two were sharing a deep dark secret.

"Vincent Noir...when he came in, he was very uncooperative. He repeatedly attacked the staff, and we eventually had to restrain him. At the time he was on some pretty heavy medication, mostly to make him sleep, since he refused to on his own. But it only lasted for a few weeks, then he seemed to snap out of it. That's when we lowered his dosage. The forgetfulness and shaking are only side affects, and should diminish the more we lower his dosage, which we've been doing gradually for weeks now. In fact, pretty soon he's going to be up for his second evaluation. The last one...he didn't pass; but if it all goes well this time, there's a good chance he'll be released from the Centre. Of course, he'll still be assigned therapy sessions and medication, but it's a far sight better than spending the rest of your life in here. Now, the slurred speech...while it is a common side-effect, it's a bit extreme in his case, I'll admit. Usually patients don't exhibit such a drop in speech skills like him. It only really started about five months ago. We're not completely sure what it means yet, but we've been doing some tests, and it's most likely just an effect of the change in his medication."

Howard felt his elbows digging sharply into his legs as he continued to lean forward, listening intently as the doctor continued.

"I personally believe that it's been brought on by drowsiness. No need to worry, Mr Moon, we monitor our patients here very carefully, and we'll know if Vincent's pills are having an adverse effect on him. Now, was there anything else you wanted to discuss? I understand you have another visit scheduled with him, on his birthday. Let me just warn you ahead of time; there are many items we don't allow as gifts to the patients-"

"W-what about ponchos? Uh, the kid wants a poncho for his birthday..."

The doctor smiled then, and sat back again in his chair, an air of ease coming over him for the first time since he'd entered the room.

"A poncho would be fine, sir. It would only need to be inspected first, just to be sure it's not housing any sharp objects. It's only a formality, you understand, nothing personal."

Howard nodded, and soon found himself being escorted out, as the doctor had very little time, it seemed. No sooner was Howard led out into the waiting room than the doctor glided quickly down the hall to the right; Vince's hall. Howard wanted terribly to follow the man, to see if he was indeed going to visit the boy, and if so for what purpose. But Howard just turned toward the doors and exited out into the daylight.

* * *

Howard searched high and low for a blue poncho. He just couldn't muck this up; he just couldn't! But he'd been scouring the whole of Wimbledon and beyond, and the few ponchos he _did _find were nothing like what he had hoped for. Finally he settled on a white and grey poncho with a simple pattern. The grey looked almost blue anyway, and Howard kind of hoped Vince wouldn't notice.

When the day finally came, Howard felt both dread and happiness wage grim war in the pits of his stomach as he got out of Tristan's car, poncho in hand. He had decided not to wrap it or anything, since it would need to be inspected beforehand anyway.

Once the guards deemed the clothing safe, Howard folded it neatly as he and Tristan moved through the halls. They had no escort this time, and made it back to Vince's room by memory. Howard came to a quick halt just strides away from Vince's door, causing Tristan to crash into his back. His eyes took in the sight of Leroy, hand resting on the doorknob in mid-turn. He too stared back at Howard, surprise behind his eyes. The young man stood straight and gave a glance Tristan's way. The woman smiled politely, stepping forward and offering her hand to Leroy.

"Oh! Hi, I'm Tristan; Howard's girlfriend. I remember you from before. That was a while back, huh?"

Leroy didn't shake her offered hand, just turned and opened Vince's door, walking through it without a word. Howard _really _didn't want to go in there now, but Tristan pushed him forward until he gave in and moved the rest of the way on his own. He hadn't seen Leroy in nearly a year, and somehow it felt as if the easy friendship the two had once shared was long gone. He'd say that he didn't have a clue why, but in all honesty he had a pretty good idea.

Howard entered the room, watching mutely as Leroy sat down on the edge of the bed, where Vince lay curled up. He leaned in and rested a hand on the boy's arm, murmuring quiet words Howard could only slightly make out. Feeling like an intruder, Howard moved to sit on one of the sofas, Tristan taking a seat rather close to him, giving him a reassuring pat on the knee. Good, at least she was also picking up on the tension in the room.

Vince was now rising, eyes bleary as he smiled up at Leroy, failing to take in the room's other occupants. Leroy continued to speak quietly to him, a smile of his own coming through. The two continued on like this for several minutes, Howard unwilling to shatter the peace, hands twisting the fabric in his lap. It was Tristan who finally stood and moved to the centre of the room, visibly unwilling, herself, to actually stand next to the bed. She nevertheless put just enough assurance in her voice as she spoke to the two before her.

"Hello, Vince. How are you feeling today, hmm? Excited to be turning nineteen?"

Vince's face went quite blank as he took in Tristan and her words, brows moving slightly together as his eyes then moved from her onto Howard. Then it was as if a spark had went off, and Vince was attempting to maneuver around the two people before him and get off the bed. Leroy immediately took Vince's arm and steered him slowly toward the twin sofas.

Vince was all smiles as he sat down across from Howard, Leroy standing back and trying to not look like he was hovering. Howard could sympathise with that.

"Howard! You came back! Thought I was dreamin' las' time."

Howard grinned over at the boy, who's raw happiness was effectively melting most of the cold tension still present in the room. Thankfully, the kid didn't seem to notice it, and his eyes immediately latched onto the clothing in Howard's hands. Howard fumbled with it for a moment before holding it up for Vince to see.

"Uh-it's not blue, sorry. Um, but it's close."

Vince grinned up at Howard and reached an unsteady hand toward the poncho. Howard stood and gently pulled the fabric over Vince's head, situating it correctly once it was on him. The boy marveled down at himself. Geeze, you'd think owning a poncho were a life-long fulfillment of his, rather than simply a random, possibly drug-induced, request made only a few days ago. But happy was happy, and Howard was just thankful Vince loved his gift.

The rest of the visit passed in quiet words and awkward conversations involving side-glances shared between everyone in the room except Vince, who was too caught up in his new poncho and markers (courtesy of Leroy) to notice much else. Sadly, he still seemed as drugged as last time, wobbling gait and all. Howard wanted so terribly to ask Vince about his life here in the Centre, but didn't want to ruin the boy's mood. He resolved mentally to ask Leroy for any details after visiting hours were over.

* * *

"Hey! Hey, Leroy!"

Howard had to literally jog through the halls to keep up with the younger man. In the time it had taken Howard to hug Vince and promise to visit him soon, Leroy had already given his goodbyes and vanished from the room. Now it seemed he was intent on making his way out of there as quickly as possible.

Howard eventually caught up to him in the lot, Tristan following at a slower pace. Howard reached out to grasp the other's arm.

"Leroy! Wait just one-"

Suddenly Howard found his shirt caught in a surprisingly tight grip as he was dragged forward, nearly nose-to-nose with Leroy. Howard was again reminded of how tall this young man was; very nearly to his own height. Howard also noticed that Leroy seemed to be sporting more wrinkles and shadows than just a year ago. He didn't have long to ponder these thoughts, as Leroy was immediately speaking in a low, angry voice.

"What are you doing here exactly? Hmm? Think you can just waltz on in here with your present and make like nothin's happened?"

Howard raised both hands in surrender, really not wanting to get into a row in the parking lot of a mental ward.

"Look, I just...I promised Vince I'd see him on his birthday-"

"Yeah well, I'm sure you promised a good many other things to him; promises you never kept."

"I have no idea what you're-"

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare act oblivious! You _never_ came to visit him, not once! Do you have any idea what this last year's been like? What _he's _been like?"

Leroy gave a strange sort of hapless laugh, releasing Howard and stepping back. Howard felt Tristan's hand resting on his back, but he was too focused on all the denials, excuses, and apologies clawing up his throat as Leroy continued on.

"You know, I consider it a _blessing_ that he was so drugged up most of the time he could hardly remember you. Hell, he doesn't even remember why he's _in _this bloody place! And now here you come, actin' all noble, like a knight from the mist. You should've stayed gone; he was doing better without you."

With those final words, Leroy turned his back and began walking toward his car. Howard's mind desperately flung out something, _anything_, to say at the other man's retreating back. Perhaps an angry accusation of his own; a denial, plead? What came out was a rather unexpected question, one that Howard hadn't even realise he'd wanted to ask.

"Where's Riley?"

Leroy paused in opening his door. He didn't bother to turn around and face the other two, voice now dulled and quiet.

"They don't allow kids in the Centre. Don't mention Riley in front of Vince. He gets real upset."

With that, the man got into his car, starting it up and leaving Howard and Tristan behind, air buzzing around Howard's head.


	4. Chapter 4

(College really stresses the brain, so this is a little rushed and not my best work. Ah well, I just wanted to get it done and out to you guys, so I hope you like it and don't mind waiting so long in between chapters. As always, your reviews make me smile. I read them over and over all the time!)

Chapter 4

Hearing the clack of shoes passing in the hall, Howard immediately went to the door, opening it and sticking his head out. Sure enough, it was one of the many nurses on duty, and Howard called out to her.

"Excuse me, miss? Um, can I ask you a quick question?"

The woman paused in her swift gait, turning to look at Howard for a moment before nodding and moving toward the man. She seemed to have a million things on her mind at once, and Howard hoped she was preoccupied enough not to bother asking whether Howard was related to Vince or not. He feared that he might not get an answer if she did.

The woman raised her eyebrows slightly at him, and Howard stepped out into the hallway a little further, keeping his voice low in the near silence of the Centre. He gestured in the direction of the room as he spoke, keeping an amiable tone despite his worry.

"Could you tell me why he's acting the way he is? I-it's just that, he's not normally so...unresponsive."

The woman stepped over to the open doorway and leaned in, looking across the room at Vince, who remained still as stone. She seemed to recognise him, because she immediately turned to look up at Howard with a nod.

"Oh, Noir had to have his medication increased a few days ago. It takes a while for patients to adjust to changes in dosage; in a few days he should be back to normal."

The woman turned and made to continue on her way, but was again halted by Howard's voice, a bit louder than he intended. Howard was a patient man, but this entire business with the drugs was making him more than a little angry. He understood that it was for the boy's good, but in his mind he just couldn't bear the side-effects that Vince's meds were having on him.

"Back to normal? Well no, he won't be back to _normal_, he'll be back to that sleepwalker state I've seen him in. I doubt he's actually been _normal_ since he arrived here."

The woman gave Howard a patient smile, and walked toward him once again.

"Sir, I know it can be difficult to see family like this. But trust me when I say it's for the patient's own benefit. Now, if he begins to show signs of improvement, then we can lower the dosage once more. Now, I hav-"

"But this...surely this can't be any good for him! This endless cycle of lowering and raising meds. Isn't there any other way to go about it?"

"Look, sir, his second evaluation is coming up in two months. Maybe if he shows improvement by that time, he'll be released."

The woman's tone conveyed her skepticism about the likelihood of that happening, and before Howard could argue once more, she was off down the hallway, shoes clacking quickly until she was out of sight.

All Howard could do was go back into the room and resume his post of kneeling before the kid, hand reaching out to touch his cheek lightly, as though he were made of porcelain. Howard noticed that the boy had shifted slightly sometime while Howard was out in the hall, and felt a bit of hope spark in him that maybe Vince could hear him through the muddled fog his mind must be in.

"Vince, can you hear me? Listen...you've got to improve by the time of your test. You've _got_ to. You don't belong in here, Vince...And hey, tell you what, I promise- d'you hear me? I _promise _that if you make it through evaluation this year, you'll come and live with me and Tristan again. Hmm? Just like old times. But you have to get better, Vince. Please."

Vince's responses were to continue to breath and blink, and Howard sat across from him on the twin green sofa, staring down at the boy who stared down at the tiles.

* * *

"Moon. Moon? Hey, Moon!"

"Huh?"

Howard was pulled from his thoughts by Horus, one of the many bin men Howard had come to see as pals over the months. It was currently early morning, and they were nearly finished with their rounds. The man smiled over at Howard, and repeated his question.

"I was just asking if you had something on your mind, but it seems you already answered that."

"Oh. Sorry, Horus."

The other man paused for moment before giving Howard a concerned face. They were both rather similar people; not wishing to divulge in 'heart-to-hearts' or emotional things like that. But it was clear to Howard that Horus was worried over his recent introverted behavior, and it had Howard opening up a bit to his friend.

"It's just that..."

Howard gave a heavy sigh as he finished stuffing the last of the binbags into the back of the truck, which moved forward down the street toward the next residence, Howard and Horus situated on its back. They climbed down and Howard tried to find the right words to continue his sentence.

"It's just that, Vince doesn't seem to be getting much better. I mean, I've gone to visit him three times now, and he just _sits there_, saying nothing! It's driving me insane, Horus! Because I know that it's a result of that damn medicine they have him hooked on. I mean, he's gotten better...a bit. He's still like a walking dead person, but he's not doing a statue impression like that one day, thank god. I just...I want things to be normal again. I want him to pass this evaluation of his, and I want him to come back and live with me again, and we can put all of this mess behind us. It'll be just like old times..."

Horus, who'd been listening patiently, tilted his head toward Howard and gave the man a look that Howard recognised but couldn't place.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Sure about what?"

"Sure that things will go back to normal. I mean, I read about that incident at the Zooniverse, man. No offense but...that kid of yours sounds more than a little crazy. And a whole year in a mental ward? I'm just saying, you might want to prepare yourself for some changes in the boy."

Not sure how to respond to these equally wise and upsetting words, Howard simply moved on to the next bin, and was relieved when Horus didn't press the matter.

* * *

Howard entered Vince's room and felt a shock of surprise run through him. His expectation of once again spending time with zombie-Vince was dashed, and Howard was immensely relieved to see the kid sitting hunched over the little desk which sat near the doorway. From what Howard could see, it seemed that Vince had opened the new packet of markers Leroy had gotten him, and was scribbling slowly onto blank sheets of paper.

Howard moved completely into the room, shutting the door behind him and walking closer to Vince as the kid continued to draw idly, humming slightly to himself a tune Howard failed to recognise. The older man cleared his throat in the quiet, hoping that would be enough to catch Vince's attention. Nope. Not even a twitch. Instead Vince's humming melted into half-formed words, which Howard could barely make out. His bony hand, which held a light green marker, picked up its pace on the paper below, and Howard found himself unconsciously craning his neck to try and get a clear view at what the boy was working so diligently on.

"_Day after day, they send my friends away, to mansions cold an' grey_."

Howard looked back at the boy as he sang, the words strange but not seeming like something Vince would come up with. Perhaps he was singing a favorite song of his, as he so often used to. Howard would bet the clothes off his back it was another damn Bowie or Tubeway Army song.

"_I can fly, I will scream, I will break my arm. I will do me harm_."

Alright now this was growing worrisome. Was this really just a song? Or was Vince trying to communicate in some obtuse way? Oh Howard was confused, and starting to grow a bit dizzy as he watched the marker move in quicker and quicker circles. He wished he could see the boy's face, was too afraid of startling the kid to lean in too close.

"_Here I stand, foot in hand, talking to my wall, I'm not quite right at all. Am I?_"

Alright this was getting far too strange for Howard, so the man cleared his throat again, louder this time, hoping that would be enough.

It apparently was, as Vince immediately halted his movements and humming, turning to look up at Howard with a strange expression which gave Howard the impression that Vince didn't quite recognise him.

"Vince, uh...do you...know where you are right now?"

The kid was obviously expecting something different, judging by the wrinkle in his brow as turned to look down on the desk below him, lowering the green marker. He stood up then, and began to move slowly toward the sofas, as though the action had become an ingrained habit.

Howard had but a moment to settle down onto one of the cushions with a tired sigh before Vince was suddenly sitting up straight in his own seat, eyes gaining awareness for the first time since Howard had arrived.

"Wanna go play a game?"

"Uh...Game?"

"Yeah, room down the hall's got loads of 'em. An' I'm bored."

Howard paused a moment before remembering the large room he passed on his way to Vince's, which seemed to be a sort of social room. The man nodded down at the kid, happy and relieved that not only did Vince seem to be over his whole non-responsive state, but was willing to leave his room and do something, well, _normal_.

The boy stood on unsteady feet and took up one of Howard's hands, walking to his door and out into the hall as though Howard were a child that didn't know where the toilet was. Howard kept silent and allowed Vince to slowly shepherd him down two hallways, ever watchful as the boy stumbled occasionally in his sleepwalker gait. Soon they reached a pair of open doors which led to a pale blue room with tables lined up on one end, and a series of chairs circled around a television on the other. Most of the room's occupants were surrounding the tv, and didn't so much as shift as Vince knocked twice on one of the doors, looking to a nurse who sat across the room eating a plate of toast and looking incredibly bored. She looked over at Vince, gave Howard a glance, and then nodded mutely. Howard was confused, but Vince seemed to understand as he pulled the taller man into the room and over to a tall shelf which held many different board and card games.

Vince pulled out a worn-looking Clue box and turned to Howard, who nodded his approval. The two then sat in silence at a table, Howard watching as Vince went about setting up the game. His hands shook slightly, and Howard wanted to take the pieces from him and set everything up himself, but he could already hear the indignation in the boy's voice as he gave a petulant "I ain't weak!" so he simply let him be.

Vince's uncanny ability to read Howard's mind at random moments seemed to kick into gear, because as Vince set the final pieces down onto the board, he spoke in a soft, monotonous voice.

"Had a bit of a fight last time I was in 'ere. Got banned for a few days...don't really know how long ago tha' was so...was jus' making sure we was allowed in 'ere."

Howard didn't have a chance to respond before Vince was suddenly looking behind him at a bloke a few tables down, face buried rather too closely in a book.

"'ey! Jaque! Wanna play some Clue?"

The man nodded with a smile and began standing to put the small book away as Vince looked back at Howard.

"Mind if he joins? He's kinda been me mate in 'ere; goes by Jaque L'Cube."

"Jaque _L'Cube_?"

"Yeah well, he's French, and he's a cube."

Vince's expression didn't change from it's rather blank state, so Howard figured he wasn't joking, and as the smiling man plopped down in the chair beside Vince, Howard decided to just let it go, and not ask questions later. They _were _surrounded by insane people, after all.

The evening passed rather uneventfully, with five games resulting in Vince's victory with three wins over Howard's two. Jaque just seemed beyond chuffed to be playing with anyone. After the five games, and Vince's victory shout which caused several patients to startle and the nurse to shush him sternly, Vince made a face at the woman as he ushered Howard quickly out the door and back down the hallways toward his room. He all but shoved Howard into the room and took to peeking out a small crack in the door before closing it all the way. Howard once again didn't bother to question, simply stood silently as Vince suddenly turned and walked over to his bed.

Climbing underneath the cream duvet, Vince looked over at Howard, smile etched across his face as he sat back against the pillows.

"So, what've you been up to, Mr Moon?"

Smiling at the boy's obvious good mood, Howard stepped over as he spoke, feeling at ease in the familiar atmosphere between the two.

"You know what I've been up to, Little Man; absolutely nothing. Life is slow without you there to give me my weekly heart attack."

The jab was taken with a laugh as Vince replied. "Without me you're sure to turn into a boring old man. Next visit you'll tell me you've become a geography teacher."

The two shared a quiet laugh, and Vince turned his head to gaze out the window, eyes landing on the moon which hung high above in the inky depths of the sky. His smile faded and Howard watched, uncertain of what to say, as Vince's eyes took on a far off look. His eyebrows lowered and the smiled morphed into a frown, eyes never leaving the pale sphere out the window.

"Vince? What's wrong?" Howard leant forward, arms bending the mattress under their weight as he caught the boy's eye. Vince turned back to look at him, face now blank once more.

"Alright, Howard. Jus' too much noise, y'know?"

"Too much noise?" Howard phrased each word slowly, heavily confused as to what the kid was talking about. It was nearly silent beyond the walls of the room.

"The noise." Vince said, as though Howard should just _know _exactly what he was referring to. The man decided with a mental shrug to simply play along.

"Is it too...noisy in here for you, Vince?"

"Not when you're around." Came his reply, voice getting lower as Vince seemed to be dozing off.

A sudden knock at the door caused Howard to jump, turning as it opened to reveal a nurse. She appeared surprised to see Howard standing there, and spoke in a curt but polite tone.

"Sir, visiting hours have closed, now. It's time for the patient to take his medicine."

"Oh, right, sorry. Could I just have a minute? To say goodbye."

Thankfully the nurse agreed to this, closing the door once more. Howard turned and sat down on the bed, noting the faint distress welling inside Vince's eyes at his impending departure. He sighed heavily.

"Why can't you stay? Please? It's quieter with you here."

Howard so badly wanted to remain there, even if he still didn't understand this 'noise' situation. He didn't like the implications of it, and took up one of the kid's hands, hoping to at least offer him some comfort before he left.

Vince didn't give him time to think of something reassuring to say, his own feathery voice filling the air.

"Hey Howard, wha' did I do wrong?"

"Uh, what do you mean, Vince?"

"Well I had t've done somethin' wrong, or else why'd I be in prison."

Howard's eyebrows lowered and he tried not to sigh. So much for an afternoon with a mostly-lucid Vince. Seems the kid had rocketed off into another dimension once again. Howard decided to just be frank and clear with the boy.

"You're not in prison, Vince, you're in a medical centre, alright? It's to help you feel better, do you understand?"

"Oh. So why 'm I here again?"

Howard recalled Leroy's words several days ago, and felt a weight in his stomach. Could it be possible that Vince truly didn't recall the incident at the Zooniverse? It made sense, in a twisted way, and Howard knew then and there that he wouldn't be refreshing the boy's memories any time soon. Hopefully not ever. If Vince had forgotten all about it, then it would be that much easier for Howard to pretend it never happened. So it was that the man peppered lightness into his voice as he changed the subject.

"This place seems nice, don't you think, Vince? You get to play games with you friend...Jaque. And I can come and visit you all the time. You know, your evaluation is coming up soon, Vince. Do you know what that is?"

The boy had been smiling faintly as Howard spoke, but at the question it shrank back as he shook his head up at the man.

"Well, it's this test; a test to see if you're well enough...to leave this place. And if you pass, you'll get to come and live with me again. Hmm? Doesn't that sound great?"

"I get to come an' live with you again?"

"Yes, but only if you pass the evaluation. Alright? And a big part of that is cooperation, so I need you to be on your best behavior for the next few weeks, alright? So that means no fighting, no making faces at the nurses, and always doing what they say. Can you do that for me, Vince?"

He knew what he was doing could be considered manipulative, but all Howard wanted now in the world was just to have Vince out of that damn place and within his own home's walls, where he was meant to be. The boy was looking intently up at him now, face blank but eyebrows drawn as he thought hard through the fog behind his eyes. Eventually, he nodded, and Howard felt the bony hand between his own squeeze down over his fingers.

* * *

In the two months that followed, Vince's behavior did in fact improve, due greatly to Howard's ritual of setting the boy down every visit before he left and explaining to him very clearly how he needed to get better in order to come and live with Howard. Vince always seemed incredibly happy at the prospect of staying with Howard again, and every visit Howard would hear from various nurses and doctors how Vince hadn't been in any fights or even arguments with staff or patients in so long, and that it seemed to be a miracle. Apparently Vince was famous around the ward for his stubbornness, and Howard was just glad the kid really was taking his words to heart.

Tristan didn't seem to believe that Vince would be able to pass the test, claiming that a change in attitude didn't mean a change in mental health. The conversation had quickly ended soon after as Howard walked out of the living room to take a shower, and to cool his temper. It wasn't Tristan's fault; of course she believed that Vince was mad, beyond help. He _had _tried to mutilate her. But all the same, she didn't know Vince; not the way Howard did. Howard knew Vince. Yes he was odd, and different, and maybe just a little insane. But he was certainly well enough to be out of that place, as far as Howard was concerned. Hell, under Howard's watchful eye, the boy would even be _ten times _as well off as he was at that mad house! Howard very nearly paced a hole through the floor of the shower as his thoughts swirled around him, mixing with the water.

Howard didn't go to visit the kid every day, mostly to try his best to avoid Leroy, which he managed to achieve, luckily. But on the days he did stop by, they'd spend much of their time either in the social room playing games with Jaque. Or they'd walk up and down the various hallways for hours when the kid was too agitated and restless to sit still, chewing the skin off his fingertips and scowling as Howard gently pried and questioned his mood, never achieving actual answers. Other times they would just sit quietly inside Vince's room, often on the couches but also on the bed when the boy would remain curled up underneath the duvet. Howard always made sure to keep everything light and simple, from his expression to his tone to the topics they discussed, and Vince followed along willingly with a smile and a promise to behave perfectly at the end of the day.

(If you're wondering what song Vince was singing while he was drawing, it's All The Madmen by David Bowie. I bet that little imp knows every Bowie song by heart. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, even if it's a little messy.)


End file.
